Lady Vengeance
by Beccatdemon13
Summary: Maggie's life had not been easy. Moving to a new city was supposed to be a fresh start. Instead things go how they always go. Or it would have if she had not met the Darley brothers. Death Sentence AU/Explosion of Catastrophe re-write.
**Lady Vengeance**

By: Beccatdemon13

©2016

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone except for Andrew and Margaret Dolan as well as anyone you don't immediately recognize. Please don't sue. You'd only be getting a hell of a lot of textbooks. What? Don't look at me like that College isn't a paying gig you know. I wish it were. Beccatdemon13 now will go off to fantasize about the lack of tuition payments that being paid would bring. Oh, right, the story! On we go…

 **Synopsis:** Maggie's life had not been easy. Moving to a new city was supposed to be a new a fresh start. Instead things go how they always go. Or it would have if she had not met the Darley brothers. Death Sentence AU/Explosion of Catastrophe re-write.

 **Author's Note:** For one thing Joe isn't dead (he's also a little younger (senior in high school younger)). It really didn't seem possible to me that Nick Hume could ever (unless he's extremely lucky) get one over on someone who knew how to fight and fight dirty compared to someone who never had to defend himself in that way before. Which brings me to the next point. Firstly, the movie is technically set in South Carolina or something, haven't been there so I've had all my stories be in Boston, which I haven't been to either. So, I figured that this story might be better if I write about what I know and I know New York City. I hope this embodies the Death Sentence spirit but know that this is AU.

 **Chapter One: Explosion of Catastrophe**

People often said that New York City that was safe. That was only partially true. Sure it may have been safe for the tourists and those who knew where not to go. When the NYPD actually did their job people could pretend to forget the underbelly of the city that never sleeps. When a city is constantly moving, people forget that there are dangers often lurking in plain site. Miss a subway stop, for instance, and you suddenly find yourself in a not so great part of town. It was all about learning to adapt to your surroundings. The one rule of the Big Apple: mind your own business.

Margaret Dolan might not have been a New York native but she had grown up in cities all her life. Born in Detroit to parents who cared more about a forty-dollar rush than their own flesh and blood, taught Maggie very early on that the only person she could count on was herself. That and her older brother, Andrew, though his protection only lasted until the state of Michigan got involved. Once Maggie's parents were deemed unfit in the eyes of the state both Andrew and she were remanded into foster care. Unfortunately, it's difficult to keep siblings together in the system and though they always tried to see each other, both soon got lost in the system.

Foster care was not the ending of Maggie's story. Instead she went from home to home. Never settling, never quite fitting in. Always managing to find the very worst foster parents imaginable. When a child learns that the people in positions of authority will not keep you from harm it changes their entire world, forces them to grow up quicker than they should.

As if trying to survive foster care wasn't enough, soon Maggie had a record of her own. Aggravated assault, Grand Theft, and truancy, the criminal record didn't endear her to any would be foster parent. It allowed the foster care system to stamp 'trouble maker' on her forehead and in her record. It was a mark that would never fade.

It was in Boston where Maggie's priors finally came calling. After getting into a physical altercation with one of her foster brothers, the judge presiding decided to make an example out of her. That example was three years in Juvenile Detention. Maggie may not have learned the error of her ways in her time served. But, she did learn to keep her head down and keep quiet. Both served her well and got her an early release. The then sixteen year old was released to the state of Massachusetts, where Maggie made her case for a home in New York City. This home for at risk youths, boasted all the buzzwords that got people thinking they were doing good. The 'youths' in question were changed people by the time in the home; learning boundaries and what it was like to be a functioning member of society. Whether or not that was bullshit, Maggie knew it was, remained to be seen. However, it did enough to let her social worker agree that this home would be the best fit for her.

Sleeping did not come easy in prison. Maggie had always been hyper vigilante but her paranoia kicked up a notch in places like this. Guards could be paid off and it was easy to cross the wrong person. So, when the bars to her cell sprung open on the day she was getting released, she jumped to her feet. Fortunately, it was only a guard.

"Looks like someone gets to walk out of here. Let's go, Dolan, today's your lucky day."

"Somehow luck has never been a thing of mine," Maggie muttered.

The guards didn't hear her, or didn't care as they quickly locked her up in handcuffs before ushering her through the winding hallways and into an empty room. Waiting for her were the items that had been taken from her when she had first stepped foot into prison. A pair of jeans, a white tank top, and a wallet with forty dollars to her name. Years later and she was still exactly where she was.

She changed into her clothes, putting on her shoes and pocketing the wallet. After she had signed numerous papers, Margaret Ryan Dolan was free once more. If only for a moment because she might've been sprung from Juvenile Detention, she was still not an adult and that made all the difference. That truth damn near smacked her in the face because she had not even taken a step out of the prison and she was getting collected.

"Margaret Dolan?" A severe heavyset woman asked, shielding her eyes from the sun. When Maggie nodded the woman continued. "My name's Sarah Morgan. You can call me Mrs. Morgan, Miss Sarah, or ma'am. I'm the owner of the home you have been placed into."

"Yes ma'am," Maggie said.

"Come along now, " Ms. Sarah ordered. "Our flight is departing in a few hours."

Maggie followed the woman into the plain black SUV. Though Maggie knew that she had successfully argued to be placed in a home, she was convinced that someone would change their mind. It wasn't until the plane was gliding down the runaway that Maggie allowed herself to breathe.

Ms. Sarah seemed determined to set the ground rules before they were even in New York. Maggie feigned interest but she had endured hundreds of ground rule speeches, the content barely ever changed. Most of the time there were chores, sometimes there was even the attempt of 'this is your house now too!' Though that was never the case.

Maggie often wondered about having a home. One that is hers, one that has a family with a mom there to greet you after school, with a Dad who works but is supportive and tries his best. That even when everyone is busy, when there was a problem she'd have the support of her parent's behind her. Instead the only person who gave a damn about her was her brother. And she hadn't seen him in years. Didn't even know if he was alive. She hoped he was.

It took nearly four hours to get to New York City. They had landed in an airport named JFK and took a train into Penn Station. From there Maggie was quick to follow Ms. Sarah through the concourse and onto the streets. After growing up in one city it was hard to imagine how different New York City was. There were people everywhere and it was so much louder.

The first thing that Maggie learned was that Ms. Sarah believed that no one should have cars in New York City. Maggie was inclined to believe her, as there was the subway, trains, taxis, and buses. Cars just seemed so unnecessary, however, it didn't seem to stop anyone. New York was loud, and even though the taxi didn't drive them too far, Maggie was already overwhelmed. The amount of people alone was ridiculous it was going to be an adjustment going from a relatively quiet prison life to the city that never sleeps. When the taxi coasted to a stop, Ms. Sarah gave the cabbie a twenty before gesturing the young girl to exit the car. Both women stood on the sidewalk looking up at the modest brownstone in front of them.

"Welcome home, Margaret," Ms. Sarah grinned.

Maggie didn't say a word as glanced at Ms. Sarah before looking up and down the block and at her new home. Before either woman could say a word, the door was thrown open and three kids raced out of the building.

"Jason, Jeremy, and Jeffrey, what on earth do you think you three are doing?" Ms. Sarah barked, causing the three children to skid to a stop.

"We were just messing around, Ms. Sarah," One said.

"You don't run out into the street, Jeremy," Ms. Sarah sighed. "You three get into the house. Don't you have homework or chores you need to be doing?"

"Yes, ma'am," The three chorused.

Another one stopped as the first two walked back into the house. "'Sup new kid?"

"Nothing much," Maggie grinned.

"First time in New York?" The kid guessed.

"Something like that," Maggie laughed. "And, you are?"

"Jeremy," He introduced. "You?"

"Margaret," She replied. "My friends call me Maggie."

"See you inside, Maggie," Jeremy smiled.

He walked back up stairs and left the door open.

"There are about thirty kids in that house," Ms. Sarah explained. "Those three are good boys. They are easily excited, though. Well, enough standing around, come on up."

As Maggie walked up the stairs she heard bangs and slams from across the street.

"You fucking punk!" A furious man's voice seemed to echo down the entire street. "No goddamn doin' of mine. You do what I tell you to, you fucking understand that, Nazi?"

Ms. Sarah stiffened as a door banged open, "Come now, Margaret, quickly."

"Lord knows I've been patient," The same man roared. "Get outta my sight, fuckin' half-wit!"

The older woman nearly yanked Maggie off her feet in her haste to shut the front door. Maggie didn't miss the way Ms. Sarah locked the door and the fact that she seemed to be shaking.

"Ms. Sarah, are you alright?" Maggie asked.

"Yes, sweetheart, I'm fine," Ms. Sarah whispered.

Ms. Sarah then walked to the bottom of the stairs and shouted, "Ashley! Can you come down here, please?"

A girl about Maggie's age raced down the stairs. She had piercings all the way up her ears, there was one in her nose, and two in her bottom lip. As if that wasn't enough her hair was purple, as were her eyes. Maggie wasn't aware that they even made purple contact lenses, or that Ms. Sarah would allow that kind of style in her house. Honestly, if Maggie's instincts were correct, and they normally were, Ms. Sarah was ex-military of some kind.

"Ashley, this is Margaret, she's your new roommate," Ms. Sarah explained. "Why don't you show her around?"

"Okay," Ashley replied.

Ms. Sarah walked briskly away, leaving the young girls alone.

"Margaret, huh?" Ashley asked.

"Maggie," Maggie corrected.

"Ash," Ashley replied. "Follow me."

Ash and Maggie walked up two flights of stairs as Ash talked all the way to a room down the opposite end of the hallway.

"The ground floor is like a common room of sorts, it has a kitchen and a fully stocked living room with a TV and Xbox. There's even a foosball table. The first floor is the guys, and this is our floor. Each room is grouped by age. Sixteen, right? So are the seven other girls who share this room."

Ash threw open the door revealing a room filled with bunks and girls. Heads swiveled as Ash walked straight into the room and stopped by the single bed closest to the window.

"Welcome home, Mags," Ash smirked. "Careful some of these girls are bitches."

"Aw, fuck off," A couple voices snapped.

"Hey, I got a question," Maggie announced after throwing her duffle bag under her new bed. "Who lives across the street from you?"

"You heard 'im, huh?" A brunette scoffed. "Bastard's always fuckin' shouting. You heard Bones Darley, and he was either yelling at Billy or Joey. Tell me which insult did he use: Nazi or Faggot?"

"Nazi," Maggie replied.

"Billy then," The brunette shrugged. "You'll be seeing a lot of all three of them. Trust me, they're people you wanna avoid. If Ms. Sarah catches you even glancing towards that house a second too long she'll shit a brick."

"Way to freak her out, Trin," Ashley rolled her eyes.

"Fuck," Trin began laughing, "welcome to Hells Kitchen, sugar."

"Trin?" Maggie repeated.

"Short for Trinity," Trin said. "We all have our little nicknames for one another."

"Yep," A black haired girl said. "Us strays gotta stick together."

There was a chorus of agreement from the girls throughout the room as the ones who hadn't spoken introduced themselves. After that we all split up, Maggie took the opportunity to shower before grabbing a meal with the entire house. It was a quite the feat that Ms. Sarah could cook for this many people. There was one ridiculously long dining room table where everyone seemed to have a space. It was the first time Maggie laid eyes on Mr. Cabot.

"Do yourself a favor," The black haired girl, Mo, whispered. "Stay as far away from him as you can."

"He's a right bastard," Trin agreed, quietly.

Maggie nodded as she glanced at the rather imposing man on one end of the table. He had dark brown hair and dark eyes. It didn't seem like he smiled that much. If anything there seemed to be a permanent scowl etched on his features. He had yet to speak a word around Maggie but she already knew that there was something off about him. A fact that had only been confirmed by Mo and Trin.

Unfortunately, even though the brownstone was fairly large and filled with people, it wasn't in Maggie's favor that she wouldn't even run into Mr. Cabot. Of course, no one knew this better than the young girl, since she had never had luck to begin with.

"You're the new girl."

It was a line that Maggie had heard countless times in her life. After the twentieth time it became more than a little grating.

"Yes, sir," Maggie replied. It was better to be polite on the off chance that he wasn't a dick.

"Well you're rather docile," Mr. Cabot laughed. "I guess that Juvie taught you some respect."

"I guess so, sir," Maggie sighed. "If you'll excuse me it's past my bedtime."

"Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you, girl," Mr. Cabot warned.

He whirled her around, the force of which nearly took her off her feet. Before she could offer up amends, Mr. Cabot lashed out back handing Maggie across the face. To her credit she stayed on her feet and didn't say a word. Even though the force of the blow caused her to stumble back a couple steps. Her eyes narrowed furiously, whether she was angry with Mr. Cabot or herself it wasn't clear. She should've recognized the smell of alcohol.

"You can take a punch, I'll give you that," Mr. Cabot praised.

"Too bad you can't actually throw a punch," Maggie muttered. "Need some good ole liquid courage, Mr. Cabot?"

"You little…"

The big man advanced on the much smaller girl, who had braced herself for whatever else the man had to offer. It was something Maggie was very good at: being a punching bag. There were children in this home that were eight year olds, maybe some even younger ones. She would rather herself be smacked around than one of the babies.

"Dad!"

The voice was preceded by a blur planting itself firmly between Maggie and Mr. Cabot.

"Dominic, what are you doing?" Mr. Cabot demanded.

"Don't do this, Dad," The boy, Dominic ordered. "Come on, you're tired."

"Damn straight I'm tired!" Mr. Cabot snarled. "Tired of these fucking brats bleeding me outta house and fucking home!"

Dominic was tall, nearly six feet and a few inches. His dark blonde hair hung in silver-grey eyes as he led Cabot off. They walked around a corner, his eyes meeting hers before Dominic turned back to his father. A few minutes later Maggie walked up to where she was sleeping, climbing out the window by her bed. She waited on the fire escape for a moment before Maggie began to walk down the metal steps, being careful not to make too much noise.

All the caution was for nothing as Maggie realized that there was someone waiting just a few paces from the ladder. With a growl, Maggie leapt down to the concrete, whirling around on the unwanted presence, only to realize that it was her rescuer.

"Antagonistic, a con, and an escape artist," Dominic mused. "No wonder my mother wants to keep you on a short leash."

"You gonna go tell on me now?" Maggie sneered.

"I'm not a tattletale," Dominic scoffed. "You know my Dad would've beat the shit out of you if I hadn't been there."

"I didn't need your help," Maggie mumbled.

"So, you enjoy provoking abusive assholes, how is that smart?"

"Makes me feel better," Maggie shrugged. "Besides he would've hit me eventually, I just sped it up."

"You want the tour?" Dominic offered.

"No, thank you," Maggie replied, walking towards the front door. "Thank you for before, though."

"What if you get lost?"

"I have a pretty good sense of direction."

"Suit yourself, convict," Dominic laughed. "Just come back before five, that's when Ma wakes up and starts making rounds."

"Okay," Maggie nodded. "Thanks Dominic."

"No problem, trouble maker," Dominic snickered walking in the direction away from the home.

Maggie watched him walk away until he turned the corner, then she looked at her new surroundings. New York City was rather easy to navigate, even for newcomers. The vertical streets seemed to span the entire island, while shorter still numbered blocks ran horizontally. The home was on the corner with a church at the end of the street and a subway station on the other side, easy markers so that Maggie wouldn't get lost.

She looked around wondering what direction she should take when the same furious voice from before started shouting across the street. When the door burst open and two people poured out, Maggie flattened herself against the wall, not wanting to draw attention to whatever the angry person was so upset about. Because unlike Mr. Cabot, who had to be drunk to consider hitting someone, this person seemed like they would lash out regardless of the situation, which didn't put odds in her favor.

"One fucking thing," One sudden raging voice barked, startling Maggie out of her thoughts. "One goddamn fucking thing and you couldn't even do that right. Why do I even bother with you, Nazi? You think I won't kill my own flesh and blood? That it? You think because I'm your father it gives you some kind of right to make me look like a fool?"

There was another voice this one deeper and quieter but there was a quiet edge of fury to it that Maggie could feel from her post. Whatever the other person said did nothing to soothe the formers ruffled feather, "I don't give a shit about your little excuses. You can get the fuck out of my sight now.

"You enjoying the show?"

Maggie jumped not feeling or noticing in any way that someone had sidled up next to her. She couldn't really make out facial features in the dark but he was tall, most likely taller than Dominic's six foot two, at least. His voice was also deep and the way he crossed his arms made it seem like he was use to the display that was happening.

"Family?" Maggie asked.

"Yup," He said. "You're the new stray."

"There's millions of people in this city," Maggie stated. "How do you know I'm new?"

"Cause I saw you with Ms. Sarah and I know all the kids in the home," He explained.

Turning to look at her, he held out one hand, which Maggie shook. She noticed that his eyes were ice blue and in the street light his hair looked purple. It was either a weird trick of the light or he had dyed it. Whether it was one or the other was truly hard to tell in the dim light.

"Joe Darley," He introduced.

"Maggie Dolan."

"Long way from home?"

"I would be," Maggie shrugged, "if I had one."

Joe tilted his head at the remark but other than that shrugged it off asking, "Where you from?"

"Florence Crane Correctional Facility," Maggie replied. "Detroit, Michigan."

"Damn," Joe mused. "What'd you do?"

"Aggravated assault," Maggie said.

"Nice," Joe praised.

"They fight like that a lot?" Maggie questioned, tilting her head towards the other side of the street.

"You could say that."

Maggie kept a careful eye on the scene across the street until the fatter of the two and the one who had done most of the yelling had disappeared back into the house with a few more curses echoing in his wake. He slammed the door leaving the person he was arguing with on the street.

"Fat fuck," The man growled pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his hoodie. He pulled a cigarette out with his teeth and lit it with a sigh. As he put both the pack of cigarettes away he glanced up and looked around. "Joey!"

"That's my cue," Joe sighed. "See ya around, stray."

Without waiting for Maggie's response he jogged across the street, clapping the other man on the shoulder before the two began to walk down the street. Maggie shrugged to herself deciding to go the opposite way. New York may have been an unfamiliar city but some things never changed. Whatever Joe Darley and his family was involved in it was in her best interest to stay far away. Unfortunately, Maggie lacked the foresight to know exactly how impossible that would be.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I'm not sure how live this fandom is. After all the movie's been out for years but I did state that I had intentions to revive Explosion so here we are. I don't have much written. In fact this is all of it but I have this story and one that involves the Darley's and the mafia. Which I may upload depending on the response this story gets. So let me know what you think and if you want to read the other story. Thanks y'all.


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